


"Charlie: The Masochist."

by EDEN23



Category: It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-27
Updated: 2017-08-27
Packaged: 2018-12-20 13:56:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11922318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EDEN23/pseuds/EDEN23
Summary: Charlie is forced by the gang to get a massage while hiding from the waitress who believes they are dating. Meanwhile the gang have to save the area from gentrification since hipsters are moving in and ruining their local community.





	"Charlie: The Masochist."

**Thursday 10:30 AM**

'Jus' stop waving' that thing around. I'm stressed dude!'

Frank narrowed his eyes, waving a previously trashed sandwich wrapped in foil. 'Charlie,' he rasped, 'Stop bein' a little bitch an' jus tell the broad "No"!'

'Don't you think I've tried that Frank?' Charlie's eyebrows raised with sarcastic manic arm movements. 'The waitress just comes back everyday, waiting for me to change my mind–which will NEVER happen–and then the next day IT STARTS ALL OVER AGAIN! She's back asking me to marry her or whatever.'

Dee spoke and everyone ignored her. 'Are you freakin' kidding me?'

Frank ate and talked at once, letting some food spray. 'Look, how's about you have a day off. We'll tell the waitress some bullshit excuse and she'll be out of your hair. You need to relax, you're all tensed up! I know a good place for massaging the kinks out...' He wriggled his balled up fists suggestively.

Charlie grimaced at the thought, narrowing his eyes. 'Nah. I hate strangers touching me and I hate the sound of dolphin music. It's creepy and too expensive, I'll just go live in the basement. She won't find me there.'

'You're useless to us unless you get those muscles fixed dude!' Mac thought of all the Charlie work that the gang may inherit. 'Sure Dee would get the brunt of your work but she's unreliable as shit! Bird brained!'

Frank pointed at Charlie. 'You can barely hold your arms about your head! That's the waitress stress Charlie! Soon you won't be able to run away if she comes after you! You'll be helpless!'

'I do have some money now I don't have to pay for that private detective who followed the waitress on days I wasn't around.' Charlie raised his arms up to his shoulders with some effort before giving up, exhaling. 'Okay. I'll go buy some relaxation thing, how bad can it be right?'

'Jus' leave it to us Charlie, we'll make sure she never comes snooping through these doors again!' Frank held his questionable sandwich in a threatening manner. 'We'll think of something.'

'The stalker finally becomes the stalk-ee.' Mac leaned on the crate of beer sitting on the counter, wondering how to keep the now fixated waitress away from Charlie.

'Charlie, you're such a damn hypocrite.' Dee stood behind the bar, idly watching him incredulously. 'You stalked and harassed her until she got a _restraining_ order on you! You wrote a damn musical for her and she didn't give a shit! This is the woman you have loved and obsessed over for more than a decade and now you can't stand her because she is finally in love with _you_!'

Frank scoffed. 'Deandra, look, don't attempt to understand the complexity of the masculine mind...'

'Complexity, Frank?' She turned to Charlie who was leaning on the bar, deflated. 'Charlie, I think you're a damn masochist.'

 

_**"Charlie: The Masochist."** _

 

Charlie knocked on the door, still covered in the dust and grime that comes with regular "Charlie work". He looked around the dirty and dark hallway, a little nervous since it was recommended by Frank. He was half expecting the Spa place (he was relieved since he was not impressed with spa (stupid name). Now he was thinking Frank had just directed him to a prostitute.

A young woman opened the door and immediately eyed him with suspicion. 'Uh, can I help you?' Her accent was mixed but she looked more like a hippy than a hooker.

'Uh, you're a messager–no sorry, masochister–and not a prostitute. Right?'

Her mouth dropped open then closed briefly. Was he trying to say masochist? 'No. I'm a qualified _masseuse_ and alternative therapist. Who told you–how did you even get this address?'

'Yeah, Frank told me to come because I can't lift my arms above my head and rat beating is a big part of my job so...' He made a distressed half laugh as his voice got higher at the end of the babbled sentence.

'I don't normally work on male clients...wait, Frank Reynolds?' The blonde widened her eyes.

'Yeah.' He stood with his hands on his hips glancing down the corridor.

' _Frank_ is the reason I stopped accepting male clients. He...never mind. Sorry, I can't help you.' She had almost closed the door but he interrupted her goodbye.

'I have like, two-hundred dollars.'

The young woman pursed her lips.

* * *

Meanwhile at Paddy's Pub the bar had a few more customers. Dee and Mac watched the new comers with some suspicion. 'You know when they first came in I thought they were the usual miscreants we get in here. But they all have new iPhones!'

'Apparently the bearded one with the tattoos and the army jacket is a fashion designer.'

'Wait, _he_ owns the old garage down the road that sells hipster hundred-dollar t-shirts with holes in them?'

'Yeah. Apparently this part of town has gotten super fashionable. That'll be good for business, right?'

'You two are idiots!' Frank yelled while scrunching up a piece of paper. 'Don't you know what's happening? _Gentrification!_ These bastards come in to regular neighbour hoods and put up a few shops that trick people into paying for overpriced shit like concrete coffee cups and suddenly the artists and designers move in! Then word gets around and the housing developers move in and buy everything...rent goes up and pushes scumbags like us out!'

'But the concrete coffee cups look so good in my apartment! I put cute tiny little cacti plants in them.'

'Your damn cactuses will kill this neighbourhood and put us on the street!'

'Anyway...what is all this shit Frank?' Dee folded her arms as Mac and Frank sat at a table, riffling through papers. 'Do you have a plan to get rid of the waitress yet?'

'No.' Frank sat looking at a pile of papers. 'But I _have_ been stealing her mail for clues and weaknesses.'

Mac opened another letter and scanned its contents. 'She's behind on all of her payments. Y'know I'm starting to feel sorry for her. This is bleak. Maybe it would be easier to force Charlie to remember why he was so obsessed with her in the first place.'

'Look, I know my Charlie. She could NEVER make him happy.'

Dee rolled her eyes. 'Well let's see. We could get her drunk...if Dennis were here we'd get him to seduce her again.'

Mac clicked his fingers. 'We could call him! Ask what he thinks!'

'We've done all this one hundred times before! Banging isn't an option anymore!' Frank snapped his fingers. 'How about assisted suicide!'

'Guy, that's dark even for us.' Mac frowned. 'Besides all this seems like a lot of work. It would only be fair that the waitress gets to stalk Charlie for a few years and _then_ we intervene. It can't be that bad.'

'Hey guys. What a surprise.' A voice behind them deadpanned.

* * *

'Are you ready yet?' She pulled back the curtain to see Charlie laying on the treatment bed in jeans and t-shirt. 'You're meant to put your shirt and jeans in the basket. You cover yourself with the towel.'

'Uh, no. I'm not very comfortable with that. So if we can get this over with...'

'I need to use the oil directly on your skin.'

'Look lady,' His voice climbed higher with his frustration. 'Just put it on, it'll go through the shirt and into the skin!'

'Jeez.' She took the heated oil, already frustrated. 'Alright, alright. Let's start with your arms, okay? You might feel more comfortable with taking your shirt off afterwards.' She took one hand and begin flexing his thumb. After two seconds he flinched away and got up off the bed with his hands up.

'Look, this is a bad idea I'm very uncomfortable, very STRESSED. So thanks for this message time, but no thanks.'

'I think your issue here is more than physical.' She put her hands on her hips. 'But I want you to leave this room feeling better than you did. Ever had a Thai massage?'

* * *

The gang turned around to see the waitress standing in the doorway. Frank narrowed his eyes. 'Charlie ain't here. Now shoo! Shoo to to where you came from!'

'Fine. But Frank, I also saw you walk out of my building this morning. I also knew my mailbox was full and suddenly it was empty.' She saw the papers that the gang where trying to hide. 'Are you opening my mail?'

'Umm, no, Charlie wanted it.' Frank blurted.

'Really?' The waitress smiled a little. 'Okay. Tell him I called. I'll be in later, around eight.'

'Ah, no he won't! He's seeing someone!' Mac covered his face in frustration. Frank had just made it worse.

'What did you say?' The waitress glanced at each of them coldly. 'Who is she?'

'Calm down, it's just a masseuse.' Dee rolled her eyes.

'He's with a _what?_ Why would you let him go see a sex worker when you know we're together!'

Dee and Mac raised their arms, shouting that she and Charlie were not "together". Frank spoke over them loudly. 'She's not a whore. But I thought she was, so that's why I went to her in the first place.'

The waitress seemed contented at last with the answer. 'Alright.'

'I was disappointed though. She had the potential to be one of those high class whores! Double D's! A young fresh supple body!'

Dee and Mac yelled at Frank, cursing.

'I'll find him myself. Then I'm going to kill him.' The waitress left enraged.

'Frank! This crazy bitch is never going to leave us alone!' Mac put his head in his hands. 'She'll come in again and again, asking us questions, Charlie won't be able to do his work! We need to intervene now!'

* * *

The masseuse held an arm in the air, cracking every bone loudly. She smiled she cracked and pulled everything almost to breaking point. 'Wow. You know I've most people I've had in here who have cried during this. You seem totally relaxed! Wait, are you _sleeping_?'

'Where's the waitress, Bird?' He mumbled.

'Mr. Kelly? You are talking in your sleep.'

'Did you fuck my Mom, Santa?'

She viciously bent the other arm back. 'This is messed up. What are you talking about?'

Charlie, still asleep and blissed out responded. 'My waitress. My mom.' He sounded more manic. 'Betrayal.'

'Okay...' The masseuse stood on his back, cracking it. 'Maybe you should let it go. You need to relax.'

'All wo-mans whore. Son am I.'

She shook her head in confusion as her phone vibrated in her pocket. 'Hello, I'll have to get back to you, I'm with a client.'

The voice of the waitress buzzed in her ear. 'So you're the whore. Is Charlie there? I need to speak to him.'

'What? Who is this? I'm a therapist! A qualified therapist!'

'Is that what you call it these days? I'll be over soon.'

She hung up, and cracked another part of Charlie's spine.

* * *

'Wow. I feel good!' Charlie exclaimed it as he lifted his arms up easily. 'Nothing hurts anymore. Like before it was weird when one part of my body didn't hurt, y'know?'

'I don't know, no.' The masseuse smiled, worried and wondering about how he had managed to live this long. 'I also got a call from your girlfriend while you were sleeping. Can you do me a favour and spread the word that I'm not a sex worker?'

'The _waitress_? She's not my girlfriend. I stalked her for like fifteen years but now I'm all "Stay away crazy!"'

'Well, it was nice having someone who didn't strip naked and wait on my treatment bed with a hard-on for once. So thank-you for that. You're welcome back anytime. Don't extend the invitation to Frank.'

**Author's Note:**

> Part 1 of 2 hopefully. Thanks for reading!


End file.
